


casting shadows where they shouldn't be.

by dramedies (ivymantle)



Category: K-pop, Pop Music RPF, f(x)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:59:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivymantle/pseuds/dramedies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soojung is not used to the wonders of a working camera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	casting shadows where they shouldn't be.

**Author's Note:**

> written as a response for unnideul. sort of inspired by welcome to night vale (or bits and pieces i've seen on tumblr) i may expand this into an entire series/universe of paranormal pieces rooted in the town of 'taebaek', if that's something any of you would be interested in reading. let me know!

Cameras don’t work in Taebaek. They never have; something about the town’s geo coordinates and placement over a magnetic field… or something. That’s what they always said in school, but Soojung never exactly listened to what they said in school. She doesn't necessarily need an explanation for why cameras have never worked in Taebaek. All she needs to know is that it is a fact; a normal part of life, in the same way that random indoor temperature drops and midnight howling outside your window every other full moon (despite gray wolves having not been seen in the greater Taebaek area since 1928) are a normal part of life.

Other towns don’t have temples that literally glow, or librarians that disappear and leave none of the possessions behind - save for the clothes they were last seen in, found neatly folded at their desk. Soojung knows this from reading news stories, and seeing proper photos taken by working cameras. Instead, they have problems such as robberies (by assailants you can actually _see_ ), and occasionally bizarre but acceptable weather patterns that cannot be solved by ritual blood sacrifice.

It's a thought she finds herself chasing often, and has ever since she was a little girl: what it would be like to live in a town like those that she read about. A town where you didn't have to worry about your grandmother's television not only reappearing in her old room, but turning itself on to her favorite variety channel nine weeks after her death. A town where her high school yearbook photo would actually resemble her, rather than a still from some eerie "found footage".

Soojung is not the first to to leave Taebaek, but she intends to be the first person to stay gone.

 

She is two weeks away, at the heart of one of Seoul's quieter neighborhoods, when the nostalgia hits her. It isn't the creeping, itchy boredom of the mundane that Sooyeon had explained to her when she was packing her things. The normalcy is still a novelty for her, but there's... something else there as well.

At night, all she hears are sirens and the occasional squeal of the tires on the pavement far below. It's nothing compared to the sounds of howling and tree branches conversing with her windowpane, but it still keeps her up at night. And that's when it hits her, that maybe she _does_ miss Taebaek. Maybe. Just a little bit...

But not nearly enough to break her resolve and go running back. She downloads a natural ambience album to play at night, and it helps. Sort of.

 

Ever since her arrival in Seoul, Soojung has spent her lunch hours at the outdoor seating areas of different cafes and restaurants - a luxury entirely foreign to her hometown. It's been raining on and off all day, but she keeps her date anyway. The tables around her are all empty - no one else seems to share her patience for damp chairs and looming clouds.

Making friends has proven to be a difficult thing, so as always, Soojung ends up eating her lunch alone. It's her own fault, she knows; she's quiet, has a face that even her own sister has described as "sour", and turns away curious strangers with her vague and monosyllabic replies. She doesn't tell anyone where she's from, because she knows they'd laugh. She's learned enough to know that the rest of the world - or at least the portion that actually believes it _exists_ \- sees Taebaek as a kind of recurring, scary joke. Instead, she offers up a simple "from the northeast mountains" when people ask where she's from, and leaves it at that. People eventually grow disinterested.

The loneliness proves harder to beat than the nostalgia.

She hurries through the last of her bulgogi; while she's fine with a damp seat and table, the idea of sitting through an actual shower is much less appealing. When she finishes, she heads inside the restaurant to pay the bill - her waitress hasn't made a single appearance since she ordered, and Soojung doesn't feel like waiting.

Her mind isn't entirely with her as she enters the building, and midway to the register she practically trips over a girl heading in the opposite direction. Soojung halts and pulls back, trying to regain her balance. "Sorry," She mutters, glancing over at the other girl to gauge her reaction.

She is taller than Soojung, by at least an inch or two. Her hair is cropped short, but is shaggy and looks like it has been growing out for a while.All in all, she looks about as blissfully ordinary as anyone else - that is, until Soojung's eyes drop down to the (slightly oversized) shirt she's wearing. _Taebaek Goemul Club,_ it reads in a bold, blocky font. Soojung's eyebrows knit together, and she doesn't know whether to quirk her lips up or down. She stares at the shirt for a moment too long, and the other girl notices.

"Ah, sorry!" She mirrors Soojung's own apology with much more enthusiasm, waving her hand. She doesn't say anything else, but smiles at Soojung as if she still has something to add.

Soojung stands for a moment, blinking, waiting for the girl to continue. When she makes no move to speak again, Soojung just nods and quickly brushes past her and moves to the register.

The woman working it rings her up and offers her change without even a "have a good day! or "come again!" Soojung suppresses a sigh, and turns to leave. Once she's outside the restaurant, she comes face to face with the girl from before, her smile just as much intact as it was when she apologized.

"Can I take your picture?" She asks suddenly, holding up a bulky camera that she definitely did not have when Soojung bumped into her. It's a Polaroid 500, Soojung knows, from both her Things That Don't Work in Taebaek classes and the Polaroid 500 logo displayed on the right-hand corner of the device.

"Um," Soojung starts, taken aback by the girl's question. It's not so much the girl's sudden and casual demeanor that throws her off, so much as she just isn't used to being asked that question at _all._

The tall girl's eager smiling wears her down, though, and she quickly tacks on a "... Sure."

Her smile widens, and there is a split second where Soojung is legitimately worried about this girl's face splitting in half (she's seen it happen before). But then she holds the camera up to her face, and her potentially face-splitting smile is obscured by its bulk.

Soojung doesn't think to pose, or even smile. Back at home, any kind of movement makes for an even more chaotic and otherworldly photo. Instead, she just stares directly into the lens and does her best not to blink when the flash goes off.

Almost instantly, the camera spits the photo out. Soojung eyes it before the other girl catches it in her hand, and her heart stops in her chest. "Why is it like that?" She chokes, pointing to the photo in the girl's hand: gray. _Just_ gray. Cameras are supposed to work just fine in Seoul; she sees photos around the city all the time. So why would a photo of her come out all wrong? Was _she_ just as inexplicably wrong as the town she came from?

"Ah, it takes a few minutes to develop," The girl answers with a laugh, giving the photo a little shake. She takes a few steps towards a bench to their left, and takes a seat.

"Oh." Soojung breathes, in relief and embarrassment; she probably should have known that. She follows the girls lead and perches next to her. After a minute, she lets out a laugh of her own, shaky at first, but then the girl joins in and soon enough its a genuine chorus of laughter between them.

In the few minutes it takes for the photo to develop, Soojung learns quite a few things about this Polaroid-toting stranger. Her name is Choi Jinri, and she's a first year drama student at a women's university down the road (who still hasn't decided if she wants to go into acting or directing). Her Taebaek Goemul Club shirt is actually her brother's - she skipped laundry day - and Jinri herself believes that a potentially thriving center for occult activity like Taebaek is no laughing matter. Jinri talks so much that Soojung doesn't even get a chance to shell out her own one-line phony backstory - which is more than a relief, because Soojung finds she doesn't want this conversation to go stagnant just yet.

Before she knows it, Jinri is looking down at the photo - perched on her knee, almost forgotten. "Oh! It's done," She smiles, picking it up and holding it out to Soojung.

She takes it, delicately, and slowly looks over the photograph. The colors are muted, highlighting the sea of gray surrounding Soojung in that tiny square of ink. She looks a little tired, and blends in with the gray a little too well for her own liking, but finds herself smiling anyway. "I don't think that I look all that 'sour.'" She muses aloud.

"You don't look sour at all," Jinri states, taking the photo back when Soojung offers it to her. "A little stern, maybe," She laughs, "but lovely."

Soojung glances up, meeting Jinri's gaze, and decidedly quirks her lips upward.

She decides that, for now, she's going to be just fine.


End file.
